


Black, White and Red All Over

by karrenia_rune



Category: Young Guns (Movies)
Genre: Bandits & Outlaws, Episode Tag, Gen, offered bounties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-26
Updated: 2011-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-23 02:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly how much is too much for the head of Billy the Kid and his notorious band of outlaws?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black, White and Red All Over

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Young Guns is a 1988 action/western film, directed by Christopher Cain and written by John Fusco. The film was the first to be produced by Morgan Creek Productions.

“Black and White, and Red All Over” by karrenia

Doc was always reading something, on the trail, at his school, news from back East, news from closer to home: it did not matter too much because Doc loved words the way Dave Rudabaugh talked about Silver Springs. As far as Billy was concerned he could afford to have Doc indulge in his past-time as long as it didn’t slow them down on the trail.

They had all learned to read under the watchful, insistent but fair tutelage of the late John Tunstall and while Billy had never taken to it the way Doc had he could still appreciate the value of it.

If pressed on the matter Billy would have to admit to that he was the practical short what they called a pragmatist.

Life was seldom fair and if you weren’t born with that proverbial silver spoon in one’s mouth, you simply got up and took what you wanted.

He read the papers, and in the New Mexico territory a lot of the news tended to revolve around  
the cattle ranchers, the settlers, and the constant tug-of-war between the law and the outlaws.

'And that', he thought, 'was the way it should be.'

He had never been much given to settling down, because in his mind that would mean stopping in one place long enough to put down roots. He was more like a tumble-weed constantly blown by the wind in any direction he fancied; and if he stopped moving, he’d die.

And Billy the Kid was nowhere ready to die yet, of course, he flirted with that elusive yet tempting mistress all the time; it was part of the life of the outlaw. He was no ordinary outlaw; he would be the best of them all. ”I’ll make you famous!” A signature line if ever there was one,” he mused to himself while he curried his horse.

Some might say that all bad press he received, the amount of the bounty on his head, and those of his band, did have a tendency to keep rising, but that never took any skin off of his nose. In fact, in a weird way it was like a stroke to his ego. He was getting noticed.

And someone had begun to sit up and take action.

The others might have had differing opinions on the subject, if he had asked, or even if he hadn’t. Chavez was a quiet one, but reliable and steady. Dave, well, Dave was volatile, there was no doubt about that, but if Billy was right, Dave was in for the duration. Doc, too, was in for the duration, but he certainly was not shy in voicing his opinion s and concerns.

At that precise moment a tattered remnant of newsprint wafted in his direction, torn loss by the wind from where it had been nailed into a post. On was a crude drawing of his mug with a yet another notice of the bounty being offered by the New Mexico ring, wanted dead or alive, preferably dead.

He smiled a wolfish smile and left off tending to his horse to the circle around their campfire, and showed it to the others. “What’s black and white and red allover?”

“Come on, Billy, no jokes at this time of night,” muttered Dave.

“Isn’t it obvious,” Chavez mildly inquired. “The answer is a newspaper.”

“I knew that. It just meant it was a lame joke,” replied Dave with an easy shrug of his strong but slender shoulders.

Doc looked up from his reading, his freshly loaded and cleaned Colt rifle lying by his side on the ground.

“What are you grinning about?” he asked.

“They’ve raised the bounty on my head again, see? He passed around the tattered and torn piece of news print and each man studied it in turn.  
Doc was the last, studying it intently before finally handing it back to Billy. “Well, well for them. The way I figure it was just a bit past time for them to raise the bounty.”

“How do you figure that?” Billy asked curiously.”

“Because if you did the math, which I did,” Doc replied, shrugged and sighed. “It’s been rising about every three to four mouths, and the way you’re going it should be up to about a thousand some dollars by next year.”

“That’s good, right? Dave chimed in.

“Define ‘good,” Doc muttered.

“I don’t care. I’m going to sleep. Good night.”

“Good night, Doc,” Billy replied.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in answer to my own unfilled prompt from Yuletide 2010


End file.
